Paradox
by DelilahJack
Summary: A story about House and Cam, their relationship in the past and the present and the way they deny how they feel because everything they are and what they do is a paradox of what they actually are. My first story, it's going to be long!
1. Chapter 1 The story so far from House

I have no idea how to write one of these, and I forgot to put a disclaimer in, so I suppose this is it. I don't own House or any of its affiliates, its characters, its actors, the writers, equipment, stationary, clothes, shoes, or organs that make up the programme. All I can say to that is…Alas!

I've got a few short notes to put in as well, mostly apologies for the content you're about to read

I'm British so any unusual turns of phrase or words, spellings that look out of place are either culturally misquoted or I'm suffering from brain malfunction. Either way, I've tried to keep them to a minimum.

I've rated the story an M because its got swearing in it and eventually down the line its most likely going to descend into smut so don't be disappointed (or too pleased) that you haven't been assaulted with filth yet. It's on its way!

The first two chapters are basically essay-like histories of our two main characters and their relationship thus far. It will change focus at around chapter three. Why they turned out like essays I'll never know seeing as I'm knee deep in assignments right now.

I've tried to keep the characterisation as close as possible up to series four, of course I haven't seen any of that series yet being across the pond, the rest is all my interpretation

It's going to be a long one, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I am writing it. Reviews more than welcome. I'm a masochist so criticise or compliment to your hearts content.

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Paradox

He had been telling the truth when she had asked him if he liked her. He didn't. What he didn't tell her was the other half of his response. He did like her, which was the main reason why he didn't like her. It had been an idiotic circle he'd told himself, but he'd also reasoned that in telling her a half truth, or a half lie he had been protecting both of them, she was too young and naïve to cope with his bitterness and coldness and he had been too old and set in his ways of self deprecating misery to cope with her optimism and generosity. "_There's no point even going there_" this statement had been lodged in his brain after continual repetition and late nights festering on his couch.

But the truth was he couldn't deny the attraction. He tried to shake it off, shake _her _off by bringing cruel and brusque with her on one day, and then completely ignoring her the next, but it was still there. For four years he'd been in complete avoidance of the issue, yet she didn't give up on him and despite his "no going there" mantra he couldn't help but give her some form of hope every once in a while, and occasionally she'd asserted herself in that she was still there, and made him question himself and his reasoning. He on some level must have hoped that one day everything would click into place, the timing would be right and he could let her in, slowly at first, test the waters and eventually completely cement her in his life. Perhaps she might even take the place of Stacey, he knew he could trust her, she wouldn't go against his wishes, she'd proven herself countless times before and since he was shot. She would teach him that giving a little every once in a while wasn't a bad thing, hell it could even be gratifying to please someone. Yet he wasn't sure if he still had it in him to forgive and move on, that last place in his heart that still kept him human.

He knew he had gone over the line with her occasionally, he'd hurt her. There was no excusing it or denying it. Wilson had warned him about pushing people away so often that he thought his ears would start to bleed every time his friend would enter the room, but his stubbornness won out, he had justified his behaviour and character to himself, he didn't like people, hated people interfering with his things and his decisions and most of all he hated feeling like he wasn't in control. Cameron though had the skill to completely throw him off and there were only a few people he knew that could do that, Stacy could do it whenever she felt like it, but that also meant at his expense. Wilson could occasionally but that was only on certain days when he'd grow a spine or had had a fight with one of his wives. The fact that she could do it despite her inherent saintliness worried him and thrilled him at the same time.

When he had realised that Cameron was avoiding taking her HIV test after the 3 month period had expired he kept his concern to himself. Instead, still coming off the high of kissing Stacy he had used Cameron's crush on him to his advantage in getting the cheek swab. Telling her he loved her at that point wasn't particularly true, the attraction was still bubbling below the surface so that when he had said "I love you" he could say it with some force of emotion. It wasn't until later that he realised how his subconscious had worked in that scenario. His mind knew the potential, was probably already screaming at him "Open your eyes Gregory House! You're a complete 'tard!!" (It seems even House's conscious wasn't particularly politically correct.) Yet he ignored. And to be honest, who could blame him, the woman who broken him had come back into his life and was beginning to promise to fix him.

The kiss was the beginning of the end for House, he made light of it when she pulled that damn needle out of her pocket but inside he felt like a small boat thrown out into a greying and stormy sea. The truthful side of his brain told him that this was ridiculous, the other side, the one that craved interaction threw him in head first, and afterwards he felt the whole of his body sink out through his legs, both the good one and the busted one. Plenty of moments, hundreds of glances, dozens of touches which were worth more to him than forty years of repression, abuse (by others and himself) and distrust. Interaction was fundamentally his ultimate drug it could restore him from pain and bring him more than the little happiness that he deserved.


	2. Chapter 2 The story so far from Cameron

Ok chapter two, second part of the essay like shenanigans arrives almost immediately from the first mostly because I've already written most of the story outline so updates should be pretty regular. I still don't own anything of House, or most of my belongings not even the thirty pounds sitting in my bank account. Hope you've all enjoyed it so far.

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She'd changed over the years; she'd got tougher, more daring and colder. How much of that was his fault he didn't know, in some ways he was proud of her, when she had helped the scientist end his life he had been stunned and irrevocably proud. For the first time she had shown a greater understanding of what it was to help the sick even if it didn't mean to cure. Though there under the surface she was the still same old Cameron, the one that intrigued him, gave him her complete trust and acceptance and sent a growl travelling down from his brain, shooting through his heart and settling in the pit of his stomach where fire erupted in his groin where it was promptly, desperately ignored.

Their relationship had changed irrevocably in four years, she had grown, become confidence if not in her ability as a doctor but in the way she handled House. And he, well he hadn't changed much at all outwardly but nestled deep inside him was something that had moved from pure lust to something gentler. He didn't define it, ignored it as he always did. Cameron was the metaphysical clinic duty of his relationships, occasionally another doctor clocked in under his name and tried to act on his behalf but she had thus far eluded them emotionally. Her heart craved the person that owned the name Dr House, just as Cuddy craved that he'd do his own clinic hours and stopped spitting on the surgeons to prevent surgery. Some things were just habitual to a personality, others were surprises and that is what makes the human mind magnificent. Of course he didn't know how long that could go on before he snapped, or she ended up with her neck snapped. How it came back to haunt him.

Normally Cameron was a person that regarded those who kept their emotions tightly reigned as people who weren't really concerned with the sanctity of life, sure, they could feel the loss of a loved one acutely but it wouldn't render them incapacitated as it had done to her. At her husbands funeral, seeing every thing in slow motion and watching the people that loved him, some sobbing with the kind of brave outward signs of emotion she admired she couldn't understand his friends and even some of his relatives who did not stir or flinch but held their hands loosely and stared at the floor looking almost ashamed that they couldn't cry. In many ways this was where House had affected her most, whilst knowing that not every one was the same she learnt there was a unique sort of bravery in controlling yourself. House did it constantly although not always to the same standard but to be in pain every waking moment of the day and still able to hold a relatively decent conversation (as decent as it could be for House) was something to be deeply admired, and who was to decide the differences between physical and emotion pain?

Despite the changes Gregory House brought about in Allison Cameron there were several allowances she made for herself. She might make attachments far too easily and thus suffer their loss worse than others but it had strengthened her above the normal level, her soul would be perpetually stretched thin but each time the assurance that she had done what was right relieved her. She could mourn the dead, lament those with life in which death would have been a more forgiving alternative and with each stab of pain, the power within her to carry on became stronger eventually giving her the ability to remain focused, delivering terrible news assure in the knowledge that she could bring solace, empathise and it wouldn't destroy her. In remaining attached Allison Cameron finally found the peace and detachment she needed to function not only as a doctor but as a human being.

House watched her as she grew and became more centred, assertive, and much sassier than before. It killed him to know that he had given her some of his cynicism and ruthlessness in getting to the bottom of a conundrum. He thought himself a polluter of everything that was pure, and she had definitely started out that way, but it was also with immense pride that he saw her become a better doctor, more agile as she began to think herself over him, lust and love giving way to acceptance and affection. His heart began to shift towards her becoming more powerful from the strong lust to an actual emotional and physical attachment at the beginning of his end.


	3. Chapter 3 predictablity to chaos

Hello, everyone, AHEM. I'd like to say thank you to those that reviewed the last chapters, hope everyone that's read it is enjoying it. Here for some proper conversation this time however, so I'm sorry if the grammar isn't spot on, it's been a long time since I did any real English.

My disclaimer is, that unless Fox and the writers bring on some serious House and Cameron moments soon I'll be personally going down to their offices and force them to eat marshmallows until that they write something good and for the rest of their lives any sight of that particular sweet will make them burst out crying.

It had been roughly three months since Cameron had somewhat magically reappeared at Princeborough teaching hospital, House had first seen her flitting about like some uncaught fairy in the lobby and his grip had momentarily tightened on the guard rail from shock. Since then they'd bumped into one another several times, their conversation falling into gentle banter and House and Cameron had both discovered that their relationship had once again altered course into some strange attempt at friendship. For House this was mildly unnerving, he already had Wilson, he didn't need another one with the added distractions of breasts and a nice ass that, as her boss he had found more than a little attractive. But thoughts on a merging of these two people added to a distasteful mental image of Wilson wearing make up which was as amusing as it was lacking in allurement.

Potential new ducklings demanded his attention for a while, Cuddy realised too late that all these eager and fresh hopefuls only added to Houses' disdain for them in their desperation to impress and forgetfulness to actually treat patients. Although it was nice she conceded to herself that House had so much time taken up by the potentials she saw him less often, and consequently was subjected to fewer barbs and sarcastic remarks that she almost wished it could last forever. Of course the downside of it was he made more excuses to avoid charting and doing his paperwork. '_Cameron was definitely a loss on that front_' Cuddy had said to herself and then blanched at the remark. She knew how difficult it was to reach the top of her profession; it was cruel of her to think of Cameron's merits only in terms of her skill at opening Houses' mail. In terms of working with House however, any small benefit brought by his team was welcomed, which was why Cameron had been invited back to the hospital in an attempt to bring some form of control despite them being in separate departments.

Sitting behind her desk Cuddy looked coldly at the stack of paperwork that grew overnight no matter how many times she attacked it with various implements, one day she had been so snowed under with files and letters that she had seriously considered just writing 'yes!' at the bottom of each page in big angry red writing regardless of whether the word was appropriate or not. It was either that or she would, with her own hands, build a fireplace in her office to gleefully burn every last piece of hospital administration. Unfortunately these somewhat simplistic means of solving problems were rare to her nature, throughout her life she had trained herself to be a responsible, diligent and logical woman who despite some days wishing she could just call in sick, there was an annoying voice in her head that would relay the consequences of each action that was not a particularly good idea. Often this would be the reason that she possessed a weary look on her face from the sensible annoying inner voice, or she was talking to House who possessed exactly the opposite of her mindset and one which she sometimes envied. Her musings were interrupted from the shrill noise of the telephone that probably caused minor earthquakes in Europe because of its pitch.

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Her heels clacked mercilessly against the floor of the hospital sounding frantic in their efforts to remain in step with House, who was moving with the speed of a man more equipped for power walking than limping. He moved quicker when he realised she had case notes in her hand, the numerous pages fluttering in the breeze as she walked.

"House, would you stop walking so fast? I need to speak to you!"

Quickly glancing over his should he spoke; "Can't stop now! There's an emergency!" His words when they reached Cuddy's ears had a strange sway to them, like each other word was alternating between her left and right eardrum, a sort of sound wave dancing stevie wonder, she realised quickly that it was due to his limp and each noise was shooting off at separate angles.

"What's the emergency? Will you just STOP!?" This last word was spoken with much more force than the others and accompanied by an outstretched hand that snagged the fabric of House's sleeve, halting him and making him face her. He rolled his eyes apparently resigned to his being caught, resting his hand on top of its partner gripped to his cane.

Cuddy waited patiently for about a millisecond until she realised House wouldn't say anything unless she did first. Her frustration levels were beginning to go through the roof, after one of her more stressful mornings.

"So? What drastic emergency is there happening in the hospital that suddenly occurs when I get within half a kilometre radius of you?" She said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, nothing just my spider sense tingling, some poor child has just woken up from a coma on the third floor and I'm trying to warn her that you might kidnap the poor thing and keep it locked up in your gingerbread house."

Cuddy ruffled at the mention of an old joke that hadn't resurfaced in a while but it hurt nonetheless. Keeping silent she just pushed the file out in front of her at him, eyes slightly hardening, House physically blanched at the sight of the folder and said manically; "Don't you know Cuddy? People could die if I don't get to this emergency"

"Oh really, who?", She asked disbelievingly, looking like she sincerely wished it was Gregory House.

"Me" He said simply, but when she visibly perked up with a questioning glance he added; "If I don't get to the little boys room soon!"

"Please House, just have a quick look." He roughly took the file and opened it noticing that oddly there was a newspaper clipping nestled inside of it. Turning it over, he looked at it intently for a minute or so.

"I've seen this guy on tv."

Was all that left his mouth, the eyebrows venturing lower and lower towards his eyes as his frown intensified. Internally he was facing a dilemma; take a case that for once seemed like a real challenge or give in to a similar wave of fear that had been present in Cuddys' eyes, although for much different motives. But for once he put someone else's welfare first in the standard completely selfish way that characterised House. He sucked in a breath, looked up, his eyes wide and the eyebrows rapidly retreating north again and said;

"Nope. Not taking it, Case is quite clear. He doesn't deserve treatment."

After trying to hand back the folder to Cuddy, whose hands were stuck to her hips and her mouth hanging slack, he limped over to his desk and flopped into his chair throwing the case file onto his desk. He stared at her for a few moments;

"You know if you keep your mouth open like that you'll get stuck like it, then your only career option from there is as a blow up doll."

Cuddy's brow was stern but her pleading. Her previous speech had demanded no refusal and House thought she looked almost scared, not at him but as some possible consequence he didn't know about. It was this more than anything that made him snatch the file back up. Ripping the first page with such force and theatrics that a child employs when they are feeling malevolent. Cuddy took a steadying breath watching him as he was watching her before his eyes slinked down to the page his hand splayed out at the bottom of the file balancing the pages. She knew from here on the struggle was practically over. House was naturally curious (some would call it _un_naturally curious, to the extent he would put people in danger.) and the battle usually orientated towards making him look at the damn file in the first place. However for once when it came to cases House acted unpredictably.

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Several hours later, House was with a patient, something he disliked generally but when it was coupled with the two words 'The Clinic' dislike quickly turns to anger and boredom in various rotations.

"Are you wearing a headband?" House asked incredulously, pulling the swivel chair closer to the cot where the man was perched.

"Er yeah?" He replied nervously at the sight of Houses' barely suppressed grin. "My hairs grown really long lately and I can't afford a hair cut, I'm a computer engineer and I need to keep it out my eyes so my girlfriend leant it to me."

A multitude of retorts came to Houses' mind including reflections on how it's impossible for hair to grow _shorter_ rather than longer and why he felt the need to justify himself if he didn't already feel like a complete fool, he settled with;

"Well that makes perfect sense, although now you'll be able to see how incredibly girly you look when you use a mirror. Can you not afford scissors at home? Or are you one of these _metrosexuals_?", Putting the last word in sarcasm ridden quotation marks with his fingers.

"On the plus side I've discovered why your scalp is bleeding."

The guy considerably perked up; "Really how?"

House got up and simply said; "Your girlfriend's got nits.""

"How do you know?" Said the man looking seriously confused, House thought he looked like a little girl who'd just been told about sex for the first time.

"Because you've got them, very likely due to the bit of plastic nestled on your head that makes you look like sandy from Grease."

The poor guy opened his mouth and closed it several times before he stammered; "What do it do to get rid of them?"

House scribbled on his pad; "I'm giving you two prescriptions, one for you and one for the fashion reject that is your girlfriend, honestly it's neon pink! Just read the instructions on the bottle, mind you someone who forgets to mention an insatiable need to itch their head as a symptom had obviously got their hair accessories strapped on too tight and probably needs it explained to them. He looked piercingly at the man who was gingerly removing the band from his hair. As House let him out he spied Cameron waiting for him by the desk, hailing his patient he said loudly;

"Hey sandy, do you want to have a sleepover at mine next weekend, my mom will make cookies and we can watch DVD's of Freddie Prince Jr.!!"

Cameron looked at the patient with a mix of amusement and pity, House looked at her and said more quietly; "Everyone still thinks Freddie's hot right?"

"Not since the 1990's House."

"Lame" He increased his volume as the man had finished speaking to the nurse and was making his way out of the building.

"Hey Cameron could you do my hair, I want to get in touch with my feminine side?"

She gave him a look and said; "Sure plaits or a ponytail?"

House put on a high pitched voice and squealed putting his hands together like he was deeply excited; "Ooh plaits!", and began clapping feverently, Cameron rolled her eyes but laughed.

"Wow Cameron, you're my best friend do you want to hide in Cuddy's office and practice kissing?"

He lost momentum with the question as he remembered their last kiss, thankfully it still came out sounding relatively humorous and innocent. However Camerons' eyes had visibly darkened, the pupils dilated drastically and her eyelids dropped softly making her look more pliable and alluring rather than drooping to the extent that she looked like she was mentally deranged. He tried to ignore the change, especially as it disappeared almost instantly, but the image bore into his mind. Would she look like that if he kissed her so hard that she lost her breath? "Probably" he mused. He chastised himself mentally for being a doctor and recognising the symptoms of hidden attraction.

Cameron saw a similar look flick across his face but she was much more practised at disowning any act by House that might indicate interest. She retorted quickly; "Only if Cuddy can join in, she hates it when I leave her out of smooch practice." He smiled and said it was a deal, and then she was all back to business. House missed the light heartedness almost instantly.

"Anyway there was something I needed to talk to you about."

He tried to bring it back, bored instantaneously of sensible conversation; "No I will not be the father of your baby purely because Chase is barren, although it is sad." He mimicked a small sob and flicked away an imaginary tear as he walked off towards the lift, each pantomime sob coming louder than the previous until he was practically wailing and hiccupping that Chase would never father his child and he'd have to steal one from Madonna.

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There ya go, review if you pleases!

Imagine with me, if you please a certain Gregory House dressed up in Christmas ribbon and decorations swaying provocatively to some Barry White. That should get you through some lonely nights, it does me, although with the seasons brings different themes including a swimming trunks and thrusting to 'Getting Jiggy Wit it" by Will Smith for summer.


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